


Disillusioned

by Frumpologist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Infidelity, Light Bondage, Voyeurism, dark-ish fic, not fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 11:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13294101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frumpologist/pseuds/Frumpologist
Summary: At a Christmas Ministry Gala for Charity, Marcus Flint decides to have her again, but this time he’s not going to walk away and allow his former housemate to keep her… This time, Marcus is going to make sure she’s properly disillusioned to the Malfoy charm.





	Disillusioned

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RZZMG](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RZZMG/gifts).



> Written for rzzmg for the Smutty Claus exchange (2013).

Two ancient trees frame the end of the driveway; massive fluffy pines that have been interwoven and trimmed into a graceful archway. Whatever awe they might have inspired is ruined by the cheery blinking Christmas lights that twinkle from their depths. What was once an abandoned, old manor in the English countryside stands beautified and lit with decorations of white, gold and crimson. Any piece of the décor that would typically spook the locals is faded to the background, hidden behind dancing fairy lights, ribbons and glassine ornaments. In the powdered snow leading up to the manor lays a fresh trail of wagon wheels and prints of in-tandem horse hooves.

The Ministry has outdone itself again, but not more than the attendees to the largest Christmas Gala in Wizarding England history. Men approach the tall, oak doors donning their finest, black linen robes. On their arms are porcelain-skinned women whose faces are lit up like children in a wand shop. There is no amount of makeup that is too much, no style of dress robes too fancy. The men and women of the night are at their finest, equal to their surroundings and worthy of their moment to shine.

It’s a new generation of philanthropy in the world. Children who once suffered under the thumb of a terrorizing villain are now ablaze with the need to give back to all of those who stood up and fought the hardest war of their lifetime. Many speeches are given, goblets clink. Laughter and smiles fly though the event with ease and airy lightheartedness.

Dedicated grey eyes follow Granger’s every footstep. Her hand is clasped tightly around Malfoy’s elbow as he leads her from one conversation to the next. The glinting shine from her large diamond engagement ring catches the light off of a chandelier and demands his attention. Marcus Flint growls under his breath, sets down a goblet of spiced rum and descends the spiral staircase from which he is watching her. He always wondered what Malfoy saw in such a big-headed, loud-mouthed, bushy-haired Mudblood, but tonight, just like many before it, he knows better than anyone just how addicting her presence can be.

In lavender robes that hug her breasts and hips and break open to flow around her legs, Granger is an attention grabbing sight. Diamonds hang from her ears. Her frizzy hair is slicked back and pulled into an elegant knot at the back of her head. The only mark visible on her soft, creamy skin is a tiny dragon tattoo on her shoulder that is magicked to breathe orange and red fire. Marcus wonders idly if Malfoy has a tattoo to signify his dedication to the spunky brunette, but brushes the thought aside. Her smile is infectious and her laughter earns cheeky grins from the men she’s entertaining as she hangs onto Malfoy’s arm. It’s almost like she’s been in rubbing shoulders with Pureblood politicians her entire eighteen years. She’s even better at it than Marcus, who’s had an entire year to schmooze the old twats before Granger began working for the Ministry.

With his pulse pounding in his ears and thrumming an anxious beat through his body, Marcus grabs a short, round glass from a passing tray and downs the amber liquid in one gulp. His pace is faster as he weaves in and out of the crowd and soon he is standing in front of the happy couple, forced smile over his large teeth.

“Malfoy, Granger,” he purrs her surname and takes her slender hand. “Spiffing, as always.”

When his lips caress her skin – just the barest of grazes – his senses are accosted by a warm, vanilla aroma. He makes eye contact, tugs a smile high on one cheek and carefully allows her hand to fall to her side. When Malfoy’s hand is extended, it takes Marcus a full, tension filled second to grab it and squeeze a little too tight.

“I believe your father is looking for you, Malfoy.” Marcus nods his head toward the grand staircase. “I’ll make sure the woman is well looked after whilst you pucker up and kiss the arse you’ve so tactically placed your head into.”

Malfoy’s sneer is just the response he wants. It will never grow tiresome to annoy the young git. The younger, former Slytherin was easy to rile; Marcus thinks the boy is spoiled, can get what he wants without any effort. For a moment, Marcus considers spilling everything to Malfoy and telling him just how many times and ways he’d had his vixen of a wife, but when he glances to Hermione and lingers on the way her bottom lip is worried between her teeth, he changes his mind entirely. There are other things he’d much rather do to her.

The boys finally break their handshake only after Hermione stands on her tip-toes and pecks her fiancé on the cheek.

“I won’t be long,” Malfoy promises his girl in a soft, gravelly voice. His fingers trace a light pattern down her cheek and then he sweeps away into the party leaving Marcus to his delights.

Straightening his silky, emerald tie, Marcus proffers a thick hand to Granger and juts his chin towards the dance floor. Granger’s large, brown eyes widen for a split second, Marcus winks, and that is all it takes for her to give in. She belongs here, he thinks, so delicate and unassuming, not at all aware of the intentions that are imagining themselves in his thoughts. As he guides her heeled feet to the center of the sectioned off dance area, Marcus pulls Granger in front of him and then back against his chest. His hands glide down to her hips as he directs her forward and kneads the flesh under his fingertips.

The knot of hair at the back of Granger’s head falls against the muscle of his upper chest and she grinds her rear against his thighs. Marcus brings them to a halt and jerks her around to face him; his hand slides up her side, lingering a second too long on the edges of her breast, and trails its way to find her hand again to manipulate her into the traditional dance position. Using the hand placed on the meat of her hip, Marcus pulls her body flush against him and places his chin on the top of her head.

“You feel so good, Granger,” he grunts under his breath.

He feels a sharp breath against robes and chuckles. Fingers circling lazily at her hip, he draws the fabric of her dress up by an inch with every upward stroke of movement.

“Why did you come here tonight, Marcus?” She’s not arguing as he expected, but curiously gauging his desire. It’s easy to read her thoughts – those labored breaths, swirling fingers at the nape of his neck; she wants it as badly as he does.

“To prove I can make you feel like this whether you want me to or not.” His hand dips to her butt and grips tightly until she moans into his dark, forest green dress robes.

“If Draco sees…” His finger traces the outline of her curves and her sentence breaks off.

“Meet me in the carriage with the white horse in fifteen minutes,” he commands in a firm tone.

Marcus will not take no for an answer. He’ll have her right here, right now if she tries to deny him.

And she knows it.

She nods her understanding and, without another word, he leaves her alone on the dance floor.

There’s no doubt in his mind that Granger will meet him outside. She’s never been able to resist him before, not even in the early days of their affair. He said the right things; she quivered and snapped so easily under his touch that it was almost too easy. Marcus came to one conclusion back then: Malfoy is inexperienced and unwilling to turn into an animal in the sack – the very thing Granger craves.

His tall, broad frame slinks through the regaling mass of wizards with the grace of a prowling lion. A sparkling, pine Christmas tree provides the perfect concealment from the prying eyes of the Ministry mugs he wishes to escape. While his eyes scan the crowd, the tempo of the music dwindles to a languid crawl. Couples come together, bodies melding and jerking in slow movements. His narrowing, grey eyes focus on Granger’s lavender robes as she clings to her fiancé whose face resembles that of a bulldog chewing a thistle; clearly his father was able to irritate him even further. It isn’t a surprise to see her gaze traveling over the guests of the night, searching him out. With luck, she doesn’t find him watching her from afar.

Malfoy’s touch is gentle as he pulls his betrothed closer to his body and slides his hands all over her curvy body. An involuntary, possessive growl scratches Marcus’ throat and he turns away to keep himself from pouncing in the middle of this highly publicized event.

The festivities are like a breeding ground for horny, unfaithful politicians; the Minister is chatting up a barely-twenty year old with no concept of subtlety on the other side of the enlarged tree. She’s pushing herself against Shacklebolt and practically writhing as he whispers the dirtiest thoughts he can muster. If his wife ever sees how he handles the bottle-blonde’s breasts and spanks her hindquarters, he’d be quickly out of a job and begging on the corner of the Leaky Cauldron for spare Knuts.

And then his eyes catch something else entirely: another lingering gaze from across the room. Astoria, dressed in a black dress that might be classy if it weren’t for the wide slit from ankle to hip and long, thin heels that are impatiently tapping against the bamboo colored floor. Her dark eyes are stuck on Draco’s and her lips are mouthing the word ‘outside’. Marcus grins and turns away; this is the perfect opportunity to claim Granger as his and teach Malfoy exactly who his superior is after all.

He pulls his wand from the holster that lines his dark green cloak and stalks out of the mansion into the cool night air. Several paces away, nestled against the wood and pine of the estate forest is the black carriage with the white horse he told Granger to meet him at. Tapping his wand to his forehead, he mutters a quick disillusionment spell and waits. It’s otherwise quiet outside of the gala; no more guests to arrive, everyone situated inside for a night with the media, and naught but scattered flurries and twinkling twilight to watch over them.

Frantic brown eyes search him out only a few moments later. Her lavender robes sweep the powdered snow as she rushes towards the forest side of the black carriage.

“Marcus?” She calls for him in a low, erratic whisper. He answers her with an invisible hand around her mouth and then shushes in her ear when she begins to squirm. The spell isn’t strong enough to shield him when he moves and Granger’s struggles slow when she realizes it’s her lover.

“Alright, love.” The shell of her ear is coated with saliva as Marcus nibbles his way from the top of her ear to the diamond that dangles at the lobe. He lets Granger go and leads her to the spot he’d scouted earlier. “I’ve got a special treat for you tonight. You need to promise you’ll stay quiet and not give the game away.”

The carriages aren’t very tall and the windows are uncovered, likely to allow the guests to enjoy the view of the manor as they make their way up the snow covered path. It’s the perfect gambit for Marcus – to get Granger in the proverbial sack and keep her there longer than a single night.

Marcus loosens his silk tie and slides it from around his neck. When she offers her wrists, a deep, devilish grin takes over his features. In a flash, he’s pushing her against the carriage so that her butt faces him and her breasts are pressed against the cold, snowy exterior of the carriage. The reflection of her heavy lidded eyes in the window rouses his cock immediately. Without hesitation, her dress is removed and gooseflesh covers her body. His fingers run down the curve of Granger’s spine, causing her arse to grind back against his thighs. She’s sensible even through her moan of pleasure.

“Marcus, it’s freezing out here. Are you sure –” He silences her with a sharp slap on the bottom and then soothes the flesh as his entire, meaty hand caresses it gently.

“Open your mouth,” he demands softly as he lassos the tie around her face. Dragging it down until he can feel her teeth clamp down, Marcus secures the knot at the back of her head and then fists the excess fabric. Her head juts back under the pressure and he loosens his grasp on the material; it’ll work for the moment he needs it.

The way she careens into his body causes shivers of his own even though he’s still fully dressed. What he wouldn’t give to just take her here, quickly, roughly, down on the ground in a pile of ice cold snow as she screams at him to fuck her harder. Marcus growls as he removes his cloak and puts in on the ground between Granger’s legs. He taps them shoulder width apart with his black shoes, sinks down onto his knees and twists his body around so that his face is level with the apex of her thighs.

With one hand on each of her inside thighs, he pulls them even further apart and knows that with the firm grip he’s got, it’ll leave bruises in the morning. He doesn’t care. She’s glistening already and he can’t stop himself from licking once, twice, and finally diving in with his nose against her clit and tongue plunging around the soft, delicious flesh. Granger’s body nearly sinks lower, but Marcus keeps her steady with his hands.

“Hold the carriage,” he grunts in one fell breath before his mouth becomes a slave to her sex, sucking and slurping everything he can possibly touch.

Granger’s thrashing against his face, rocking herself off on the feel of him stripping away her sanity. Her purrs are drowned out by the tie around her mouth but he can feel the pleasure she’s deriving out of it by the force of her downward grinds.

Just before she comes, Marcus pulls away and stands behind her. Her head whips around and she’s glaring at him with a mixture of desire and anger that he stopped so suddenly. Chuckling, Marcus tuts and runs his hands up her naked sides until his fingers are tweaking her hard nipples.

“Damnit, Greengrass – wait a fucking minute.” The harsh words hissed by Malfoy are followed by a slamming door and thumping feet running towards their carriage.

“Bugger.” He tries to make the curse sound sincere, but the smile on his face and glint in his eye as he watches the pale blond chase after his dark-haired beauty can’t be stopped. Reaching for his wand, Marcus silently casts two disillusionment spells; one on Granger and one on himself. Just before he tosses his wand to the ground, he utters a quiet Silencio on Granger.

As he presses his clothed body against the smaller body in front of him, Marcus whispers to her. “Don’t speak. Don’t move.”

Granger’s rapid heartbeat shoots a flush of warmth through her body. Marcus can feel it as he presses his chilly hands against her hips.

“Just listen,” he tells her quietly.

The carriage rocks towards them and as Marcus peers through the window he can see Draco shoving Astoria against it by the shoulder. He takes this opportunity to divest of his clothes and pile them on top of the cloak between Granger’s spread legs. His hands find her hips again, but this time he’s not just holding on – he’s massaging the flesh and teasing her with his fingers’ close proximity to her pussy.

“Why did you do that?” Draco demands. The carriage rocks slightly again. “Do you have any idea the problems you will start if she sees you here? Sees you staring at me like some… bitch in heat?”

Astoria sniffs, though it’s more derisive than sad. “I don’t care what that bint things, Draco. You and I –”

“Are nothing, Astoria. I love Hermione. Her-mi-one. Gods, how thick are you?”

Marcus slides a finger into Granger’s wet folds and withdraws it. She’s shaking, but he can’t tell if it’s from the sight in front of her, the cold or the extra digit he adds to her snatch. Her breath is like a puff of smoke in the air and grows heavier the faster he moves his fingers.

“I just thought –” Astoria’s uncertain voice cuts into the sound of Granger’s breathing. “I thought that you wanted…”

The girl writhing over Marcus’s fingers stops and turns her head around to face him. He juts his chin forward, silently telling her to continue watching. She shakes her head, but he’s one step ahead of her. Marcus’s free hand grabs the loose material of the tie and pulls back, forcing Granger to look up through the window.

She whimpers and he swipes his thumb across her clit.

“We made mistakes, Astoria. You and I both agreed that it was a mistake a thousand times before.”

“But it’s right, Draco. We belong together. The way our bodies fit – you feet it, I know you do.”

“You think this feels right?” Draco’s voice raises an octave and the carriage rocks again. Astoria moans and Marcus looks up through the window to see Draco hovering just inches away from Astoria’s face.

“Yes… Draco.” A moan of pleasure precedes the sound of buttons popping and clothes falling against the ground.

Marcus picks up the pace as he finger fucks Granger, breathing ragged as she’s most certainly near her climax. He pulls away, the second time he’s kept her orgasm from hitting, and pushes her back down so that her body is aligned with his in the perfect position.

Draco tells Astoria to climb into the carriage in a flustered, rush of breath. Long, slender legs are thrown over his shoulders and his blond hair is falling into his reddened face. Astoria sighs his name and his face scrunches up.

Granger is forced to watch as her fiancé fucks another woman, but Marcus is going to fix that crushing feeling. His cock slides into her without any resistance and, with one hand holding her head up using the tie and the other reaching forward to squeeze a bouncing breast, Marcus takes Granger as she stares forward. It takes only a few strokes for Granger to push against him and they’re moving in time with the couple in the carriage. As Draco’s pace increases, so does Marcus as he rides her from behind.

“Fuck me, Granger. Show me how angry you are.” Marcus groans as she clenches her muscles. “That’s it, love. Let it all out.”

Now using the carriage as leverage, Granger rocks her body back and forward forcing Marcus’s speed to increase. She’s moaning under her breath, begging him to go harder.

Astoria’s voice is starting to raise as she calls Malfoy’s name over and over. He grunts and pulls off of her and then stands upright in the carriage. She begins without being asked, taking his full length into her mouth whilst his hands rest on either side of her head. Every stroke that Astoria takes in his cock, Marcus pushes to the hilt inside Granger.

“Like that, Granger? He’s fucking her mouth like I’m fucking your sweet pussy.”

Granger’s body shudders, but it doesn’t stop him from fucking her. His free hand grabs her arse and manipulates it in a way that he can’t even register. All he knows is that he’s hitting her deeper and harder than ever before and she’s loving it.

Marcus can hear Astoria’s nasally breaths as Malfoy guides her mouth on and off his cock. She takes it all and then he pulls out and shoves himself to the back of her throat.

“Come for me.” Marcus pulls all the way out of her and jolts back inside the warm sheath of her body.

Granger cries out again. Her second orgasm racking her body as Marcus finally begins to give into his climax. Throwing the fabric out of his hands, he places both hands on her shoulders and pulls her back as he thrusts forward. His grunt is painful and guttural as his come shoots inside of her.

“Fuck.”

Marcus sags against Granger and extends a hand to reach his clothes. She’s pointing to her mouth and he shakes his head. Not until Malfoy and Astoria exit the carriage, fully clothed and appearing completely disheveled and sated, does he finally remove the Silencio charm and allow her to berate him.

But there’s no yelling, no name-calling, and no smacking. She merely grabs her dress, shimmies herself into the lavender fabric and turns to face him in silence.

“Want a lift back to your flat?” Marcus pulls his robes over his head and then reaches for Granger’s neck. He pulls the tie from her and wraps it around the collar of his robes. “Or mine. Whichever.”

Granger’s eyes are glistening and wide. She’s nibbling on her bottom lip, her arms are crossed and her body is shivering. This time Marcus is certain that it’s the cold. He offers his cloak but she shakes her head.

“You know about them?” Granger’s not accusing him or starting an argument. She sounds dejected, almost like she should have known or put it together herself.

Marcus nods. “You’re not angry?”

“It’s not like I’m completely innocent.” She shrugs. “I guess I have a lot of thinking to do, then.”

“Seems fairly simple to me. Leave him.”

“And what? Marry you?” Granger snorts and turns around towards the gala. “Come on, Marcus. You and I both know that this would never last.”

“It could.” His voice is growing louder. She doesn’t understand; he’s been waiting for her, been planning this day for months. Marcus thought that when she found out about Malfoy, they could finally have something more than weekly fucks in secret.

Granger turns back towards him and has her wand in her hand, aimed at his chest. He doesn’t understand and his temper starts to rise. He’ll have her again. Right now, just to prove that there’s something between them worth exploring.

But he never gets the chance. He’s stuck in his spot. She casts a spell on him, something non-verbal, and he’s completely unable to move.

Granger sighs and runs the back of her hand over his cheek. Her small smile doesn’t make it to her pitying eyes. Her wand pokes into his chest.

“Obliviate.”After placing a chaste kiss to his cheek, she breathes into his ear. “We go through this all the time, love. You just… conveniently forget every time.”

Marcus awakens inside of a black carriage being pulled by a single, white horse. As he stares out of the window, his mind works over the plan he’s had for months. He’d catch Malfoy cheating on Granger and then show her what a disloyal git the former Slytherin truly is. After that, she couldn’t possibly want to marry him… after that, she’d be completely disillusioned.


End file.
